


Petals That Have Fallen

by velvetyred



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Family, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Smut, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Slow Build, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetyred/pseuds/velvetyred
Summary: A collection of moments in the lives of Asgore and the Reader, following them as they grow and learn how to forgive.





	1. A New New Home

*

 

The former King of all Monsters lives a peaceful life. At least, as peaceful as it can get, all things considered. While without the title now, that weight would never be removed from his shoulders as far as he was concerned. But he is alright with that.

After finding a comfortable apartment with a ceiling high enough for him to walk through without grazing his horns, Asgore had settled in as quietly as he could. He didn't need that much space, really – as long as he could reasonably move around and there was an extra room for Frisk to use, he could not complain.

He is granted permission to plant in the small courtyard in the centre of the complex, and sets to work readying the unkempt plot of dirt. He gets Frisk to help him on their weekends together, taking care to teach them the basics of gardening. He smiles at the interest in their eyes and hopes that one day they'll grow something of their own.

(He notices that when Toriel picks them up, her face is neutral when she addresses him. Sometimes there's that heated, unforgiving look in her eyes, but she is careful to wipe all traces of it when Frisk comes bounding into her arms.

It swipes at some old, eroding thing in his soul. He only smiles and relents.

He can't really blame her.)

He acquaints himself easily with his neighbours, most of which are kindly elderly women who appreciate his interest in sharing tea. They ask about his flowers, Frisk, the Underground, and he talks happily back. He thinks he enjoys living here, he decides one evening after a conversation with a lady that sends him off with a kindly good night and an offer to bake him something some time.

He makes a habit of it, chatting with the folks in his complex when he can. It feels nice talking to people whose lives he isn't personally responsible for.

There is one who eludes him, though. He first noticed you making an attempt to walk up the stairs with three full grocery bags in each hand. You'd been startled by the boss monster hurrying over, but accepted his offer to help after his insistence.

“Oh!” Asgore exclaimed as you stopped in front of your door. It was the apartment directly above his own. “Golly, so you are the neighbour that lives here!” He'd gotten the impression that the apartment was unoccupied, since he'd never heard or seen anyone in there before. But there you were, fishing for your keys in your pocket.

You smiled up at him after pulling them out. “Yeah, I just work a lot. I don't spend a lot of time here. Oh, you can just put those here, “ You waved to the grocery bags, “thank you for the help. I'll see you around.”

He does see you around more after that. Well, 'seeing' as in catching glimpses of you here and there, leaving the complex early, when the sun just barely tints the sky orange. He never sees you when you when you arrive from work (?) for some reason.

When he asks Mildred - a funny, stocky old woman living in the apartment next to his own – about it, she shrugs. “I don't know. They don't really talk to anyone here – hell, I can count on my hand the amount of times I've spoken to 'em.”

She starts listing off the specific conversations, citing the time, place, and exactly was was said and in what tone of voice, while Asgore stays silent, contemplating the information. He thinks about the monsters he's met who were of few words or were not much for socializing. Maybe that's how you are..

..Or maybe he is thinking too much about it. After all, he doesn't _need_ to know about everyone in the complex. He wants to; it is in his nature to want to know his community, but he knows from experience that reality makes the idea much harder to pull off.

(Still, he hopes that he will have a chance to get to know you and everyone here, in this place he secretly dubs 'New New Home'.)

 

 

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello! I've had this seed of an idea for a while and wanted to wait until I was well into the To Be Whole to start this, but I've had a pretty hard time writing lately so I thought this might help me out. These are just going to be snippets of one whole story that will hopefully come together well in the end. I should also mention that there's going to be no smut here, if you haven't checked out the tags! Just feelings. :')
> 
> This will not be updated on a set schedule, but I will try to update as often as possible. Thank you so much for checking it out! :)
> 
> \- Red


	2. Stopping To Smell The Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually written RIGHT after the first chapter. I was going to wait to post it, but since I've written the 3rd chapter already and I'm in the middle of the 4th (I know. I'm on a bit of a roll, apparently) I decided to let it go this time! 
> 
> Thank you to those who have kudos'd and commented so far! It means a lot and I hope you stick around. :) Enjoy!
> 
> -Red

*

 

 

You had been pretty intimidated by the new guy.

You heard a couple of people whispering about him before his arrival. About how he was to stay here, how he'd chosen the place specifically after scouting out numerous other homes. And in all honesty, it made you anxious. Partly relieved, too, since you spend almost all day at work and would most likely not be seeing him so much anyways.. But mostly you were anxious.

Maybe it's because he's this huge behemoth of a monster; maybe it's because you've retained a small phobia of anything that stands on two legs and has horns ever since watching _Minotaur_. It could be because he's the leader of an entire race that no one even knew existed until very, very recently.

You know of him. Of course you do, because who _wasn't_ watching when he – when they _all_ emerged, claiming to have been shut away from the world for hundreds of years? It was incredible and frightening all at the same time.

It was part of why you thought you'd cower or scream when you met him for the first time.

You didn't, though. Sort of. He'd surprised you by jogging over and suddenly calling out, but in the seconds after that you find that he's actually awfully nice. He speaks exactly like the rest of the older ladies that live here (Who still uses 'Golly'?), is very helpful with groceries, and...

.. apparently, he's got a green thumb.

You discover this when you run into him again a week later as you're coming down the stairs. The sun is already up, meaning you're late for work, but you slow down when you see him. He's standing by the flowerbed in a flowery shirt, elephant-shaped watering can in hand. He looks completely occupied. Completely harmless.

Perhaps that's what prompts you to walk over instead of running past. Taking a closer look, you realize that there are _actually_ some flowers brightening the previously barren patch of dirt. You feel your mouth open with a small gasp.

“Exciting, isn't it?” He says, chuckling. Though it's soft, the sound carries through the building around you.

“Almost unbelievable.” Comes your reply as you're leaning closer to examine them. There are some newly sprouting plants, barely curling over the surface. Others are fully blossomed flowers, dotting colour into the soil. It's the beginning of what looks to be a vivid collection of flowers. “For as long as I've lived here, no one's ever bothered to do anything with this space.”

“Is that so? Well, that's a shame. This is a nice spot here.” He lifts the watering can, carefully sprinkling the smallest of the patch. His paw is so enormous that it nearly engulfs the can, but his movements are slow and delicate. It's as though he is dealing with glass. “The sun shines over this spot at the perfect times, the weather in general is not harsh. Many things could be grown here, with time.”

You look up at this. He's gazing down at the plants with a tender, unguarded affection in his eyes. The day's sunlight paints his white fur with a soft glow that makes him look ethereal, almost.

And for a moment you're back in your living room, gaping at the television where this exact monster, commanding in his armour and cape, stands tall and announces the peaceful arrival of his people. Except instead of being silhouetted against the harsh back light of Mt. Ebott's sunrise that sharpens his horns and shadows his eyes, you see what you see now – a gentle giant tending to his new garden.

This nearly makes you stutter an apology for your hesitation and misplaced nervousness, but your pocket vibrates urgently. You mutter a swear and apologize for that instead, rushing out the gate with his well wishes trailing behind you.

 

 

*

 


	3. Helping Hands All Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little longer than I'd planned to make these chapters, but I couldn't help myself. I have so many feelings about this fic and where it could go already so these longer ones may be popping up more than I intended. Which is not a bad thing, of course.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -Red

*

 

 

One thing Asgore is truly thankful for is that even though Frisk is sent over to be under _his_ supervision, he is never the only one watching over them. The moment their giggle echoes through the courtyard, windows and doors are opened and soon enough, people are stepping out of their homes to greet them.

“Why hello, Frisk!” They say, patting their head or cheek. Sometimes they come with a compliment on their attire, or a comment on how much bigger they'd gotten since last time. Frisk takes these with nods and pink cheeks, returning them with their silent 'thank you's.

It doesn't take long for them to warm up to all of it. Asgore is even a bit astonished at how easily they come to embrace their small community. They don't speak about it much, but from what he can understand they are not as outgoing at school as they are here.

“they're not completely alone,” Sans tells him one day, leaning against the gateway. He's come to pick up Frisk on Toriel's behalf, as she has some business at the school to take care of. “mk is their best buddy and they stick together most of the time. the kid's real awkward about talking to other kids – especially if they're alone, they just kind of drift toward the side and do their own thing.” He and Asgore watch them slide their shoes on and wave goodbye to Charlotte, a soft spoken tenant on the second floor. “it's pretty early on in their school years so hopefully they'll open up, ya know?”

Asgore agrees. It's saddening to think that such a remarkable child has trouble interacting with their peers, but he has faith that they will learn. For now, he takes comfort in the fact that even though they may not be able to express themselves at school, they have a place to do so here. Many Saturdays are spent with different people: watching Mildred and her friend Lonnie play chess, helping Charlotte from 103 choose patterns to crochet or playing hide and seek with her wife Maggie. It's wonderful to witness, the twinkling of their eyes and the carefree fluidity of their movements. The attention is good for them.

There are times, though, when Asgore worries that it may be a bit overwhelming.

“Aren't you the _cutest_ little thing today - “

“Your hair is nearly covering your eyes, dear! Asgore, you really should see about getting them a trim - “

“My, you remind me of my kids when they were young. So full of energy - “

“Oh hush now, Asgore, I'm sure one more cookie wouldn't hurt - “

“You should learn how to do this! It's actually very fun, let me show you - “

He tries to keep track of how many times they jump from activity to activity. Luckily Frisk is a lively child and their energy reserves allow them to go on for hours without pause. And once they do mellow out, they slip smoothly into their usual routines without a fuss. Share a meal and some tea, then watch a show or read stories into the evening until bed time.

Sundays are Asgore's favourite. That is usually the day they spend together, just the two of them. It can be spent gardening in contented silence or strolling through the park. Sometimes he takes Frisk to the movies and they walk out having to explain to him that no, those talking animals were actually animated and not in fact played by monster actors.

They're taking out tools to the courtyard to prepare for another Sunday of gardening when Asgore spots something he doesn't recognize. It's a small pair of gardening gloves, coloured purple with one large pink strip through the palms. It's similar the sweater Frisk is so fond of wearing.

He takes them out of the chest where he keeps his and Frisk's tools and stares at them, trying to remember if he'd purchased anything like it recently. Stumped, he rises and brings them outside.

“Frisk?” He asks from the doorway, catching the child's attention. “I found these in our box. Are they yours?”

They put down the trowels in their hands – a matching set in vastly different sizes – to adjust their hat so they can see. They nod when they spot the gloves.

Curious. “I see.. How strange!” He glances down at them again, thoughtful. “I can't seem to remember when I got them.”

Frisk's shaking head draws his eye and he watches their hands move in sign language. They go slow, aware that he is still learning, so he is able to catch their words. “You didn't get them.” A pause, “From neighbour.” They move to sign something else, but seem to think better of it and they point in a direction instead.

Asgore follows their line of vision past him to look at the second floor. There's no one there and he turns to say so, but then he's hit with comprehension. They're pointing to _your unit_!

That's odd. He's never seen you with them. And he is sure that if you'd met Frisk, he would have known. His puzzled expression must be very obvious, because they start to explain.

“Sometimes I can see them through the window, so I wave at them.” They tell him, “They always wave back and say hi. And one time when you were making tea, they came downstairs to talk to me.” A small smile spreads their lips, “They were really nice. They said they liked my sweater and wanted to give me the gloves so they'd match.”

Ah. Asgore mirrors their smile, “That was very kind of them.” He kneels down, handing them the gloves. Frisk eagerly slides them on; they fit snugly and they take the time to admire the matching colours. He imagines you in a store picking them out and it fills him with gratitude. “Would you like to give them something later, as a thank you?”

They hug their hands to their chest and nod so vigorously that their hat falls askew on their head, and Asgore laughs.

 

 

The next morning, you shrug on your bag and reach out to open the door when something underneath it makes you stop. Upon sliding it out, you see that it's a card. Daisies and tulips are hand drawn on the front beside two suspiciously familiar looking doodles of a child and a fluffy goat monster. The inside reads:

 

_Thank you very much for the gloves. I will take good care of them and use them to grow pretty flowers! :)_

_From,_

_Frisk_

_& Asgore_

 

 

*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I really love writing Frisk. I'm hoping to tackle a bunch of different dynamics in this so hopefully the story goes in a direction that will allow me to. Of course, this is still a romance but it is an exploration as well. And keeping that in mind, I also find that I have ideas for chapters that would be nice to add as separate tidbits. They'd either be outsider perspectives of certain things or extras I feel I can't fit into the narrative. For example, the scene where reader gives the gloves to Frisk, but through Frisk's eyes. 
> 
> Would that be something that you'd all be interested in? I would love to hear thoughts on it.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for reading. :D Until next time!
> 
> -Red


	4. Warm Remedies

*

 

The coughing is loud. Loud and frequent enough that concern begins to build in the pit of Asgore's chest as he goes to check the mail. It's coming from your apartment and he is so _very_ tempted to offer you his fresh, untouched cup of tea that's sitting on the counter, but. He isn't sure if it's quite appropriate to do so yet.

You still haven't spoken much. The most conversation he is able to have with you includes a short “Howdy!” and “Good morning!” and then you're off to start your day.

After shuffling through the mail to find nothing but newsletters, he discards them on the dining table before starting up the stove with his fire magic. It is early, and by now he's aware that you're usually out the door by the time he's finished his breakfast. He resolves to stop by and check on you if you are not out the door by then.

 

Half an hour passes. He finishes up his toast and sips his tea dreadfully slow while he listens for your door to open and shut in the wake of your hurried steps. It doesn't; the coughing begins to sound worse.

He stands and moves to the cupboard, taking out another teacup. He fills the kettle with water again, leaving it on the stove as he reaches for his golden flower tea. There isn't much of it left, but he hopes that its soothing properties will be of some help to you.

The walk up the stairs is not as clumsy as he thinks it might be. He manages to make it to your door with two fresh cups of tea balanced in his paw. The knocks are quiet enough not to startle other people awake, and he waits. There's some rustling and a hard cough behind the door. The slide of a lock and then it's opened halfway to reveal the human in question.

Sure enough, you do not seem to be in any shape to be going to work. You're bundled in a sweater a size two big with sweatpants that are definitely not part of a uniform. There is a spot on the side of your head where your hair is standing in an awkward direction and there are dark circles residing under your eyes that should not be there. A balled up tissue hangs loosely in one hand, and the other is holding on to the doorknob.

“Oh,” You're staring straight at him with a sort of dumbfounded look upon you that makes him think you're not entirely awake yet. But you're speaking anyway, hoarse voice and all. “Good morning.”

“Ah, howdy neighbour.” He starts, clearing his throat. “I couldn't help but notice that you were coughing, and – “

You straighten at that, the hand on the knob going up to cover your mouth. “Oh no, is it bothering you? I – ” As though on cue, a few coughs escape you, rattling you so much that you curl into yourself with each one. Asgore wants to pat your back, but you've recovered by the time he gains his nerve. “ – Ugh, I'm so sorry. I'll try and – I'll try and be quieter, I know the echo in here is pretty bad.”

“No, no, not at all! I came to offer you this.” He holds out the tea, the steam from both cups rising in the space between you. “It may help with your throat. It must be very strained.”

“Oh..” Your eyes float down to the cups and stay there as you process his words. He tries not to twitch at all when he realizes that it may have been a little presumptuous of him to bring two cups instead of one. Oh dear - he doesn't want you to feel obligated to invite him in!

He's about to say so until he sees you smile and look up at him with tired but grateful eyes. “That's very nice of you! I'd love to have some, thank you.” You extend your hands to accept the cup and it's almost comical, how small they are compared to his massive paw. After inhaling the aroma and letting out a satisfied sigh, you step aside and nod into the apartment. “Please, come in.”

The layout is an exact replica of his own home, so fortunately there is no need for Asgore to worry about damaging the popcorn ceiling. The furniture is smaller, though, and he is careful to seat himself slowly on the maroon dining room chair you pull out for him. With minimal creaking, he settles in and observes as you sit across from him and take a long sip of the tea. He can't help but smile when a pleased hum comes out as a result.

You go back and forth, talking at length about a great many things: the progress of the courtyard garden, Asgore's interest in tea and how he was liking the complex. He discovers that you've been a resident for a few years, and that you work at a bakery not too far away from the school that Frisk attends. When he asks if you spend all day there, your teacup jitters with your laughter and coughing.

“Yup, I do. I'm there before opening hours all the way until the last part-timer leaves.” You lift your shoulder in a half shrug, “I guess you could say I'm a workaholic.”

“I see. And so that is the reason you do not return until later in the evening?” He inquires. He's made aware of the oddity of the question when you raise your brows, taken aback. “My apologies, I don't mean to sound intrusive. I only mean that I have noticed that - “

“Oh, no. It's okay,” His shoulders sag in relief, and you look into the contents of your cup briefly as your finger taps the side of it. “I can see why you'd wonder about that. But no, the bakery closes at a regular time – I just like to have dinner out, is all.” You shrug again and meet his gaze, looking a tad sheepish. In no way offended, thank goodness. “It's just convenient since I'm already out and there are plenty of options on the route home, you know?”

There's an “ooh” of understanding, and you go on to tell him about the mix of food places there are to choose from. Indian, Chinese, Japanese – he gets a little lost when you list the next three, but you assure him that he has all the time in the world to learn about and try them. When he asks about the cultures themselves, you tell him what you know. You admit to your own ignorance to things and discuss that and more.

All the while the sun is rising higher and your teacups sit empty on the table.

 

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you've all had a good week and a half. There have been some exciting developments in my life in just the past week and it's pretty cool. 
> 
> Anyway, we finally find out a TEENY bit about you, reader! :3c Oooh~ Looking forward to expanding upon these two. Thank you for all the kind words so far too, I'm so glad you're liking all this fluff :'D I'm really enjoying writing it.
> 
> Till next time, folks! Take care.
> 
> -Red


	5. Some New Shred of Normalcy

*

 

You don't think much of all the laughter at first. Though the complex is filled with elderly people, there's never a lack of energy and you're used to hearing the occasional bouts of boisterous laughter.. Even though sometimes, it keeps you from sleeping in on your days off. Which is exactly what is happening now.

You give up all hope of going back to sleep after you hear Maggie – the louder half of the mostly pleasant couple living next to you – practically _howling_ at something downstairs, knowing that you'd be hearing that laugh in your dreams if you did. Slinking into the kitchen, you set to making yourself some coffee to chase away the rest of your grogginess. Might as well be fully awake anyway, right?

Once you have the sweet, life saving beverage in your hands, you move into the living room and promptly bump your hip on the corner of the couch. Some of the coffee spills hot on to your fingers and you curse, quickly setting it down on the coffee table. You walk over to the large window facing the courtyard to slide the curtains open after wiping the excess off your hands. When you do, you're instantly glad that you decided to put the coffee down first.

Near the railing of the second floor is Asgore. But he's not _actually_ on the second floor, no, in fact it looks like he's _floating_. His hands are hovering in the air at his sides like he doesn't know where to put them and his knees are bent forward to his chest. The guy looks like he's being cradled in some invisible giant's arms.

The drawing of the curtain seems to draw his attention. His head turns in small increments, like he's afraid a sudden movement will disrupt.. whatever it is that's happening. When he finally sees you, he makes an attempt to smile, though it fails to combat the rest of his anxiety stricken face.

You don't know if you should laugh, but you opt to hold off for his sake. Turning to grab your coffee, you head out the door to meet the suspended goat monster. When you're out you realize that there are _multiple_ voices besides Maggie's laughing; all of them are bouncing off the walls of the building, converging to hit your ears at a volume that makes you scrunch your eyes shut for half a second to adjust.

When you open them again, you're met with Asgore's distressed gaze. He looks like he's about to call out with a regular “Howdy!”, but then he drops away from your sight with a strangled yelp. Hurrying to the edge of the railing, you look down and see him still curled up, only now the fish monster holding him up is in view, surrounded by your temporarily incapacitated neighbours.

She's built and lean, with a sleek red ponytail on the top of her head. Her sharp teeth, parted in maniacal laughter, glisten in the sunlight and you think, briefly, that you should maybe just go back into your apartment...

But you never get the chance to, because the fish monster has seen you. Her eyes are wide with recognition and she grins toothily. “Hey! Are you another one of Asgore's friends?” She sets him down with surprising grace and leaps – _leaps_ – on to the railing in front of you. She introduces herself as Undyne, Asgore's _bodyguard_ and you're not surprised one bit. If that display and the bone-cracking, blood stopping handshake she gives you is any indication, she is more than fit for the job. You're also unsure if the look she is giving you is genuine niceness, intense scrutiny or both. Either way, she urges you to come downstairs and witness her bench press all of the building's residents.

She's.. a little forceful about it actually, so you're left with no choice but to go to the ground floor and join the commotion. Once there, you go to stand by Asgore, who looks comparably relaxed to what you saw a few minutes ago. He smiles at your arrival, and you nod to Undyne and the rest of the old ladies, all gathered around her getting ready to be lifted into the air. “You keep some interesting company.”

He chuckles, a little breathlessly. “Yes, well. I would not have it any other way.”

Together you watch the group squeal and cling to each other as they rise off the ground. Undyne's face is bunched together in concentration, sweat coating her brow. It's such an unusual picture, but it's one that you're open to. You try to think back to the last time the complex was _this_ lively and, after failing to recall any, decide that this is a normal you think you wouldn't mind getting used to.

 

 

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again everyone! Happy March. Things have been incredibly busy with my new job and I'm liking it a lot! But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this snippet. Let me know what you think <3
> 
> Thank you to all who have kudos'd and commented again! It makes me so happy to know that people are interested in Goat Dad fluff :'D Till next time!
> 
> Red


	6. The Weight of His Robes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Another update is here and this time it's a shorter piece. No fluff here for once - just a glimpse into another part of Asgore's reality! Hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> \- Red

*

 

“And on behalf of all Monsters, we would like to thank you.”

You have the television on loud enough for you to hear it while you clean. Normally you opt for a more relaxing program that you can pay attention to in little bits and pieces, like a nature documentary or a show you don't really care for. It's just on to provide background noise for your chores, but this time you're listening attentively from the kitchen sink.

It's some sort of message to the public. Asgore explained it to you earlier that morning when you encountered him on your way back from grabbing your laundry. He was decked out in all his kingly garb and looked rather out of place in more ways than one.

“It is more of a reminder than an announcement.” He said. There was an uncertainty in his eyes and he had a paw wrapped loosely around the edge of his velvety cape. It was concerning, but you allowed him to continue. “A reminder that we mean no harm. It seems like something rather simple, but my council has deemed it necessary in order to try and lessen some.. Unsavoury trains of thought.”

You hadn't known how to respond to that, so you simply wished him good luck. Finishing with the dishes, you shift focus to your next task.

Asgore's voice washes over you as you dump your clothes on the couch. You get to folding things once you are leaning back on the cushion, eyes on the screen. There's no trace of that clouded look on his face; his posture is straight, elongating his already tall frame, and his paws are loosely resting on the sides of the podium. He looks every much like a leader, but by no means a cruel or harsh one. You think back to your feelings of apprehension and shake your head. That had been irrational and unfair, and you're glad you've come to know the monster he actually is.

_'But,'_ Something in you whispers, ' _not everyone gets the chance to do that and fear has an ability to paralyze and twist and fan flames.'_

It's not wrong. You have given thought to the affect of the newly surfaced monsters on the human populace before, and not all of them are very pleasant. Humanity does not respond well to things it doesn't understand and you have no doubt that this is any different.

You smooth out the lines in the shirt in your lap, firmly ignoring the shiver that runs through you. You decide not to think further on the subject and focus instead on the positive, hopeful monster on screen.

“We hope that you will continue to support us,” His hands rise, palms up in an open gesture to the crowd. Asgore smiles – a surprisingly genuine smile, you think. As though the happiness of an entire race does not rest on his shoulders. “in our effort to live our new, exciting lives under the sun.”

 

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello! I've had this seed of an idea for a while and wanted to wait until I was well into the To Be Whole to start this, but I've had a pretty hard time writing lately so I thought this might help me out. These are just going to be snippets of one whole story that will hopefully come together well in the end. I should also mention that there's going to be no smut here, if you haven't checked out the tags! Just feelings. :')
> 
> This will not be updated on a set schedule, but I will try to update as often as possible. Thank you so much for checking it out! :)
> 
> \- Red


End file.
